


Gliding

by consultingsuperhero



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Hunting, M/M, Swimming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 04:53:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/974565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/consultingsuperhero/pseuds/consultingsuperhero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While in town for a job, Dean and Sam begin attending the local high school. In order to avoid failing gym, Dean must learn how to swim. Who would be a better teacher that Castiel, the straight A, honor student, swim team captain?  A relationship beginning in forced interactions and slowed by Dean's pride evolves into something much more important. All this as a sudden influx of vengeful spirits terrorizes the town.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gliding

“Winchester! What in the hell do you think you are doing?”

            Dean kissed the blond for another five seconds before pulling away with a smug grin.  “What does it look like Mr. Weaver?”

            The gym teacher’s face grew red at his insolence. It contrasted with his white hair that stuck up in all directions.  “Let’s go. And you,” he pointed at the girl. “Go back to class.” 

            Mr. Weaver pulled Dean along with him out from under the bleachers to join the rest of the gym class.  The smugness on Dean’s face was only re-enforced with the cheers from some of the guys in the class.

            “Shaddup!  Go with Mrs. Anderson’s class for the rest of the period.  Don’t forget your swim gear. Next class we are starting our swimming unit.”

            With that, Weaver pulled Dean away from the track, back into the school.  They walked in silence together towards the vice principal’s office: Weaver in his gym teacher shorts and a polo while Dean had his usual four layers of clothing in spite of the spring weather.  The smugness had faded from Dean’s green eyes and it seemed that even his hair had lost some of it’s rebelliousness, laying slightly flatter in the air conditioning. 

            They entered the office side by side and the secretary Mrs. Johnson sighed. “Again Dean?”

            He shrugged and gave her one of his charming smiles.  “It would appear so.”

            Mr. Weaver led the way into the vice principal’s office where Mr. Henderson was sitting behind the huge desk.  Weaver nearly pushed Dean into the chair in front of the desk before walking behind the desk to converse with Henderson. 

            Dean exhaled and laid back, closing his eyes to the all too familiar room.  Suddenly, “Winchester!”

            He sat up to see both adults staring at him.  “Yes?” he replied.

            Henderson took a deep breath.  “You have been here far too many times in the month that you have been here.  Now, I understand that it is difficult to come into a school midway through the year, but this is unreasonable.  You are skipping classes, specifically gym, so much that you may not graduate if you keep this up.  This is your final year and I don’t want to see you here over the summer.”

            “I doubt I’ll be around long enough to actually matter,” Dean muttered.

            “What is that supposed to mean?” spat Weaver.  Dean lifted his head up to meet Weaver’s gaze.

            “It means that you’ve seen my file.” Dean’s jaw clenched with frustration.  “I move around too often to last for the rest of the year.  My dad could have to move for work any day, so I’m just sticking it out until he says to go.”  
            Henderson appeared suddenly sympathetic.  “I have seen your record and it does not seem very promising for college.  That may not be in your plans, but even low level jobs require a high school diploma.  In order to finish high school, you will need to do extra work in gym.  The rest of your classes too, but gym is a state requirement that you have to pass.  So just go to all your classes and you will be able to graduate.”

            Weaver added, “This unit is even swimming, which usually is pretty easy.”

            Dean shifted in his seat uncomfortably and suddenly went pale.  His fingertips drummed on his bow legs, then went up to run through his short blond-brown hair.

            “What is it?” asked Henderson.

            “It’s just,” Dean paused. “I don’t know how to swim.”

            Silence fell over the room. “You don’t know how to swim?” asked Henderson.

            Dean shifted in his seat again. “I never really had the opportunity to learn.”

            “Well, that won’t keep you from graduating.  There must be another option.” Henderson looked back at Weaver.

            Weaver sighed. “Swimming is a life skill, so I can just pair you up with an experienced swimmer to learn.”

            “Hell no!” Dean practically shouted. “I am not going to struggle in front of these idiots in the kiddy pool.” He crossed his arms in front of all of his fabric.

            Weaver sighed and said, “I guess you could come in the mornings. The swim team practices very early, so they will end an hour before school.  I see here,” he looks down at the file folder on the desk “that you have a free period first period. You can come then. There won’t be a class here then.  Okay?”

            “Will this guy be teaching me?” Dean jammed a thumb in Mr. Weaver’s direction.

            Henderson sighed and said, “We will pair you up with someone on the swim team.” He turned to Weaver. “You have someone in mind?”

            Weaver considered this. “I’ll ask them at practice today.  I’ll find someone for you.”

            The bell rang in the middle of Weaver’s thought.  “Can I leave now?” Dean asked.

            “Sure.” Dean stood quickly. Henderson continued, “But, I want your commitment.  You need to graduate high school and no one wants to see you fail.”

“Whatever,” Dean retorted and strutted out of the office.  Mrs. Johnson looked up from her solitaire to see Dean rushing out of the office.

The hallway was buzzing with the after school rush. To Dean it was just another one of the many schools he had been forced to go to.  Why did his dad have to take them to this uppity town? They have a pool in the school for God’s sake.  The moment Dean entered the school, he knew it would be one of the schools that valued Dean as their “bad boy.”  Dean just used that to his advantage, with first Sydney, now Melissa throwing themselves onto him.

He breezed out of the building and towards the student lot.  Sam was already leaning against the passenger car door of the Impala.  Engaged in one of those ridiculously long books, he looked particularly young in this spring light.  His hair was getting shaggy, which reminded Dean that he would need to trim it soon.

“Heyo Sammo,” Dean called out and Sam shut his book quickly to look up at his big senior brother. “Let’s get out of here.”

As they climbed into the car, Sam asked, “Is it true what people are saying about you?  That you were hooking up with Melissa under the bleachers? And Weaver caught you? And you got sent to the principal’s office?”

Dean turned the key to hear the engine purr for him.  He began to back out with Sam still looking at him intently.  As they pulled out of the parking lot, Dean answered, “Yep. That’s all true.  Well, it was the vice principal’s office, not the principal’s.  I guess I’m not that important.”

Sam rolled his eyes. Dean retorted, “I saw that! Don’t do your little bitchface thing to me. I don’t need your shit, Sammy.”

Sam sighed. “It’s Sam now.” It was Dean’s turn to roll his eyes. “And what did they do to you?”

Dean shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road.  The town flew by around them.  It was surprisingly affluent in spite of the small population. The motel they were staying at had hundreds of channels, which Sam and Dean had made full use of in the week that they had been there so far.  Dean noticed how Sam seemed to be comforted by the protective nature of the town. Dean on the other hand felt displaced. He was used to tiny towns in their rural obscurity. This did not feel the same.  One thing that made this better was that Sammy liked it, and this is enough for Dean.

As he pulled into the motel parking lot, Sam prompted, “Well?”  
            Dean shut off the impala. “I didn’t get detention or anything. They just said they were concerned about me graduating. They are forcing me to use my free period for gym.”

They climbed out of the car; Sam hauling his backpack out, a little unbalanced due to the amount of textbooks in the bag.  “That’s so unfair. At least it is gym and not, like, an extra math or something.  Isn’t the unit swimming? Shouldn’t that be easy?”

Dean exhaled loudly and was happy to be interrupted by Cheryl, the motel manager. “Hi boys!” she said in her piercingly high voice. “How was school?”

“Good,” Sam replied with a smile. “How was your day?”   

She beamed at them. “You boys are so sweet! It was quiet, which is nice.  You have a nice night now.”

“Yes ma'am,” the boys said in unison as Dean unlocked their door.  The suite had been a free upgrade, so they all got their own beds for once. The two twin beds faced a big TV in the living space while a door led to the master bedroom where their father had set up shop.

Sam set his stuff down on the kitchen table. “Finish your story. You are gonna go swimming then in order to graduate?”  
            “Well. . .” Dean faltered. “Yes. The issue is that I don’t know how to swim.” He looked down at the patterned carpet where his worn boots anchored him.

Sam’s eyes roamed over his face. “You’re joking, right? Even I know how to swim. How did you miss that?”

Dean shrugged and walked over to the couch.  “You learned how to swim, but I was older than all the people in the class. I didn’t want to struggle in front of little kids.  So I just never learned.”

Sam whistled. “Wow.  Well, at least you will learn now.”

“I guess.” Dean flipped on the TV as Sam began his homework.  They stayed in these positions until there was a knock at the door. It was a heavy two knocks, then three light ones.  Dean peaked through the peephole and then let his father in.  John breezed by Dean a shoved the groceries onto the kitchen counter.

“Got food for you,” he said gruffly.

Dean immediately got out plates and Sam did his routine of filling water glasses for the three of them once he had cleared away his books.  Together they shoved food into the refrigerator and the cabinets as the shower began.  Dean went about reheating the prepared barbeque and sides in the microwave.

Sam wasn’t going to let the topic drop.  “Whose gonna teach you?  Mr. Weaver?”

Dean shuddered.  “No, thank God!  He’s gonna get one of the swim team guys to do it.”

Sam nodded.  “Good.  Because I really want you to graduate.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but Sam continued, “Graduating from high school is really important if you want to get any sort of real job.”  
            “Sammy, we both know that I will not be getting any sort of real job.  I’m gonna be a hunter just like Dad.  We have to save people.  We know how the world really is.  How can we leave people to deal with all the things we know exist?   We can’t.  That is my big plan.  But Dad wants me to blend in, so that means graduating.”

      Sam shook his head, but sat on his bed, reading his book.  After a few minutes of silence, the shower shut off.  That was the cue for Sam and Dean to sit at the table with the food.  Their dad reappeared in clean clothes and sat down at the table.  He filled up his plate and began to eat without even looking at his sons.  They all served themselves and ate in silence until Dean spoke.  “How’s the case going?”

      John finally looked up at them.  He finished his bite of pork.  “Slowly.  How’s failing gym going?”

Dean was shocked into silence.  John continued after a sip of water.  “I got a call from your principal.  That is something I never want to hear again.  You know that the only reason I let you guys come with me on cases is because you know how to keep a low profile.  If I get a call from your principal, then you are doing a bad job at keeping your head down.  You will do everything they say to do and I will not hear anything else from that school.  Is that understood?”

“Yes sir,” Dean said in an empty voice. Sam focused on a really interesting piece of pork as John stared at Dean.

            “Good.  Get this mess with Gym cleared up.  I’m gonna go to sleep now.  It’s been a long day.”  John stood and returned to his room.  Sam and Dean were silent around the table.  They sat that way for a few minutes, absorbed in their own thoughts.  Then, Sam started clearing the table as Dean stuck the leftovers in the fridge. 

            The walls suddenly felt like they were pressing in on Dean.  His breaths were growing shallow and he walked out of the room.  The cool night air greeted him as he leaned against the wall outside their room.  Their room was on the second floor of the “U” shaped motel.  In the center of the U was a small pool.  The light reflected off the surface and onto the walls around Dean.  He took long breaths in and out to steady his head.  Something about his dad turned Dean’s mood sour.  The anxiety he felt about tomorrow’s first lesson was magnified by the mere fact that his dad knew.  Now it was more than just passing a class, it was about making his dad proud.  He didn’t want to fail him again.  Dean sank to a crouch looking over the crappy motel “courtyard”.  He sat that way until he calmed down.  Then, he went straight to bed without a word to Sam, who was studying at the table.  Dean pulled off his outer layers and sank under the covers for some fitful sleep as Sam continued his rebellion via homework.


End file.
